Living in a world thats not his own, Ayern cannot recall anything of his past and the only clues are a mysterious wing design on his shoulder and the fact he belongs to another world, another dimension. Now given the chance, he's wanting to find answers.

Authors Note: Hey everyone, this is a new story of mine. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to comment. This work is all my own and any similarities is just a coincidence. Other than that I'll let you enjoy :D

War
of Memories: Conflicting Dreams

Prologue:
How it began

They
stood facing each other. Both were breathing heavily from their
exertions, exhausted from their battle, but neither would back down.
He was clutching a broken right arm, a grimace of pain apparent on
his face. Blood ran down the arm of the other, a girl. They stood as
if made of stone as the wind blew around them, throwing the burning
embers of the palace into the air. Her white dress, stained with
blood, billowed in the wind, her shoulder length hazel brown hair
with it. His dark cape fluttered and then was gone as the clasp came
undone with the wind. It was the signal. Both moved at the same time,
aura's of power, hers light, his dark, flared around them. They
clashed; auras crackling with the collision of two different
energies, their Quarterstaves locked together. A burst of energy from
his Aura flung the girl to the ground, her aura of energy fading. She
stumbled to her feet, covered in ash, to see another attack of dark
energy streaming through the air towards her. She didn't have time
to react.

"Highness!"
A voice shouted. She saw a figure jump between her and the blast of
energy and raise his shield. The blast of energy collided with the
shield, shattering it and striking the figure to the ground.

"Ayern!"
She shouted, running to his side as another wave of power approached
them. Her powers flared around her again and formed a shield against
the battering ram the energy had become. "Ayern, you're a fool."

"My
life for yours, Princess," Ayern replied, pain in his voice and
sorrow in his eyes. "I couldn't let you die; I didn't want to
lose you. The people need you… like I needed you. Use my strength
and make him pay for what he's done… Syrana."

"Ayern!"
She shouted, tears falling down her cheek as she felt him leave her,
his body fading into the ethers. She felt his strength flow through
her, but couldn't move, didn't move. Her childhood friend, her
protector, the person she cared the most about, has just died in her
arms. Her body moved without her, anger coursing through her. She
grabbed her staff tighter, her aura of power growing more brilliant
than ever. "Because of you," Syrana spat at the man, "because
of you, I lost my family, I lost the land I loved and now you have
taken the one thing I care about from me. Tell me why!?"

"I
want your power," The man snarled, "I want the power to travel to
other dimensions, other worlds. You hold that power, you are the key.
If you won't surrender it, I'll take it by force."

"Never,"
Syrana replied, "I'll ever give you that power." She gripped
her staff in her hands and drew a rune into the air before her.
Markings appeared on her forehead arms and back as her true power
awakened with her anger and sorrow. A sphere of energy surrounded her
and expanded outwards in waves, destroying everything in the
immediate area. The building collapsed, chunks of the earth were torn
from the ground and disintegrated before her. The man snarled as he
felt her power and tried to fend it off with a barrier. Her markings
began to break apart, segments torn from her body and scattered into
nothing, until her skin was bare, the markings long gone. She fell
unconscious to the ground, a huge crater surrounding her unmoving
form. The man was no-where to be seen. It was in the crater she lay
until the end of the battle, unconscious and barely alive. Unable to
wake up and unable to dream…

He
floated through darkness, barely aware of his existence, barely aware
that he was still alive, his body broken. He was on knife's edge,
one simple sway and he could die, one piece of help and he would
live. Time seemed to be nothing but a memory in the darkness, for
there was no way to know how long he had been there or how long he
was going to stay. He couldn't remember how he ended up there,
where he came from, who his friends and family were, nothing. Just
his name and the fact that he was seventeen years old. His memories
had scattered and left him with no answers, only questions. He
floated in the darkness, slowly losing his grip on the conscious
thoughts running through his head.

A
white light erupted in the darkness, but it dimmed quickly as his
vision began to fail him. Images were blurred, darkened, yet he could
still see the movement in the light. A girl emerged into the
darkness. It was she that was the source of light as it shone
brilliantly from around her being, holding the darkness at bay. Who
is she? He found himself wondering before his vision faded and he
slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing he felt was her warm
hands on his forehead and over his chest, the warmth spreading into
his cold body and then nothing.

The
girl looked down at the boy and let her warmth flow into him, mending
his broken body. She saw the small flickering flame of his life grow
strong, but it still flickered from the internal turmoil, threatening
to destroy him from the inside. She could see it and she looked at
him sadly. He was dying slowly and she couldn't stop it. It was
impossible to tell how long he had left, maybe a few days, or a few
years. She waved her hand over his body and it began to turn into
small motes of light that floated through the darkness. A portal
appeared in the darkness and the motes floated through it before
disappearing. The girl smiled sadly as the portal closed. I
only hope he will live long enough to remember,
she thought, my only one.

My
only one… The words echoed in his head as
he regained consciousness slowly, but he couldn't recognize the
voice. The words puzzled him, but he couldn't ponder the thought as
noise erupted all around him. He was lying on a cold stone floor, his
body ached all over, but there seemed to be nothing broken. He heard
footsteps approaching and opened his eyes to find himself staring at
a group of black clad soldiers wearing strange armour and wielding
weird weapons that were pointed at him. His instincts were screaming
at him to run, to hide, that these people were dangerous. He listened
to them. Lifting his feet off the ground he slammed them into the
nearest soldier, sending him off balance and then flipped himself
onto his feet before dashing through the door he spotted on the
nearest wall. He heard loud bangs, like thunder, explode from the
room behind him and felt the air ripple around him with heat as small
metal objects flew by him, colliding with the walls, spraying up
shards of stone from the walls around him. What
sort of weapons are these? He thought, these
weapons that sound like thunder and throw metal objects that can
shatter stones. What are they? He didn't
want to find out and continued racing through the hallways of the
strange building he was in. Harsh light shone from strange devices
mounted on the roof and he asked himself where the heck he was.
Unfortunately he didn't get an answer.

He
saw an intersection up ahead and made a split decision, racing into
the turn and running down the new corridor to another intersection
where he turned again to try and lose his pursuers, rushing past a
girl his age, wearing another of the black outfits, but none of the
strange weapons could be seen on her. He had hesitated too long as he
turned the corner and felt a sharp burning pain in his shoulder as
something impacted with it and he was spun around into the wall,
hitting it hard. He recovered himself quickly, clutching his shoulder
and pushing off from the wall racing down the corridor, blocking out
the pain of his injury. More thunder, more stone spraying everywhere,
but thankfully they missed as he continued to run through the maze of
hallways and doors. He reached another intersection and stumbled, his
vision blurring. I must have lost more blood
than I thought, he mused to himself, feeling
the shirt around the wound soaked with his blood. He fell to his
knees, but pushed himself into a standing position again, only to
feel one of the strange weapons against his back and someone shouting
orders for him to freeze. He turned, still clutching his shoulder to
see the girl he passed earlier approaching him, other soldiers
rushing to the scene, their weapons trained on him. Words were being
shouted, but it sounded like he was underwater, the words were
muffled, slurred, distorted. At first he thought it was the loss of
blood, but the words began to get clearer until he understood them.
The girl he had seen was being reprimanded by one of the soldiers for
letting him pass her in the hallway.

"There
was no need to shoot him," the girl was saying, "he was probably
feeling threatened with all the guns pointed at him. Look at him,
he's shell-shocked enough as it is, and now he's losing blood."

"You're
only a student," the solider reprimanded, "you don't know
anything. Take her back to the barracks, make sure she isn't
wandering around in restricted sections again."

He
didn't understand what was going on, but he understood they were
debating about him, that much he could figure out, but he couldn't
hold on much longer, his shirt was still soaking up the blood from
his wound, the patch on his shirt growing larger and larger. He
collapsed to his knees and the girl moved to him and applied pressure
on his wound before he could react.

"Who…who
are you?" He found himself asking faintly, struggling to stay
awake, "where am I? This place…this place isn't my home… is
it?"

"My
name is Miya," she replied, "welcome to lambda section. You're
on a world called Earth."

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